


But Words Will Never Hurt Me

by transoberyn



Category: Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, References to Past Child Abuse, Self-Harm, enjolras is kind of a clueless dick sometimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transoberyn/pseuds/transoberyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire knew he was useless. It had been pounded into his head by his father, his teachers, his classmates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Enjolras is a Really Shitty Friend

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever actual fic? I've written before, but not to display it publicly or anything. Constructive criticism is extremely welcome. If you spot any errors, please let me know.

“You don’t belong in this group. You are a coward, hiding behind your drink like it’s a barricade and real life is a group of French soldiers waiting to shoot you in the head. Your opinions are based solely on the fact that you want to piss everyone in this group off. You are useless!” Enjolras snarled, thoroughly fed up with his opinions and beliefs constantly being shot down.

****

The effect on Grantaire was immediate. It first appeared, as a minute, lightning fast facial contortion, that would easily have been missed had anyone blinked in that very instant.

****

Then he began to shake; a slight tremor in the hand holding his beer bottle, the miniscule twisting of his head back and forth as if he was discretely, but extremely disagreeing with someone in an argument. With an increasingly tremorous hand, Grantaire carefully placed the bottle on the table in front of him. He stood up, very deliberately, if not in a somewhat unstable manner, and promptly dashed from the room, the sound of his hurried footsteps clattering in his wake.

****

Jehan stood up from the table with a carefully blank expression, his fury only betrayed by the slight twitching in his left eye. He walked over to Enjolras, accompanied by the dead silent atmosphere of the room, and punched him square in the face. Enjolras’ head snapped back, making a solid **thunk** ing noise against the mahogany back of the chair he was sitting in.

****

Immediately, the room exploded into bedlam, at least 5 different conversations beginning at once.

****

“What the actual fuck, Enjolras?!” Eponine demanded, her eyes flashing with rage. “I know you may not like Grantaire very much, but useless is NOT an acceptable insult to call ANYONE, let alone Grantaire!”

****

She then proceeded to stomp up to a still stunned Enjolras, slap him, and run in the same direction Grantaire went.

****

“I- I don’t know why I said that,” he said, looking rather perplexed at this chain of events. He gingerly poked at the spot where Jehan had punched him, immediately wincing and dropping his hand to his side. “Why should I have especially not said that to Grantaire?”

****

“How about you ask him that yourself, you insensitive dickbag?” Courfeyrac countered, scowling fiercely. “Not immediately, of course, but later. Like, way later. There are some things that you would have known about Grantaire if you had actually bothered befriending him instead of demonising him.”

****

“Now now, Courfeyrac, don’t be rude. I think that a vague outline of the source of Grantaire’s distress wouldn’t be too invasive. Enjolras, what Courfeyrac is attempting and failing to tell you here, is that when each of us got to know Grantaire well enough, he informed us of the fact that he didn’t exactly have the peachiest childhood. Now, before you ask, I’m not going to tell you any more than the fact that neither the family or school aspects of his early life were all that great.”

****

Enjolras’ face went from normal colored with a slight flush from where Eponine slapped him and a gradually appearing bruise from where Jehan punched him, to deathly pale in about two seconds flat.

****

“Shit.” he said simply, and leaned back in his chair abruptly, wincing when he hit his head. “Meeting adjourned.”

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Grantaire knew he was useless. It had been pounded into his head by his father, his teachers, his classmates.

****

Useless

****

The word echoed in his head like a scream in a cave, except it got louder instead of gradually softer. It sounded in the voices of everyone he knew, from his father, to a chant of kids from his elementary school, to his high school guidance counselor, to every interviewer at every college he ever applied to, and finally, to Enjolras.

****

The spite in that word haunted him more than anything his classmates had ever said to him, every punch thrown, every foot stuck out to trip him. More than the look in his father’s eyes as he looked down at his 8 year old son cowering at his feet from a blow strong enough to deck a heavyweight boxer. More than the sneering faces of the lacrosse team as they shoved him into lockers repeatedly. More than the horrified and grief stricken look on Jehan’s face when he saw the red, angry lines on Grantaire’s wrists after accidentally walking in on Grantaire just after he got out of the shower.

****

Once Grantaire had left the Musain, he hailed a taxi as fast as possible, choking back tears as he waved frantically. The taxi driver didn’t question his stricken appearance, and just drove to Grantaire’s apartment, taking the proffered money without a comment.

****

Grantaire stumbled through the door, slamming it unceremoniously behind him. He locked it with shaking hands, then collapsed on the floor, curling up into the smallest ball possible. He stayed there for a while, rocking back and forth and sobbing uncontrollably. By the time his breathing had evened up somewhat, there was a quite sizeable puddle of tears, snot, and saliva around his head.

****

Grantaire abruptly pushed himself into a sitting position and stood up. He walked swiftly to the bathroom, taking a swig of vodka on his way past the kitchen, then opened the medicine cabinet. Inside a box claiming to contain decongestant pills was a single razor blade, viciously sharp and sparklingly pristine.

****

For the first time in hours, Grantaire’s hands were steady, as he mechanically sliced into previously undamaged parts of his arm. Ten cuts later, the previously spotless razor was stained a bright ruby red, in addition to the bathroom sink, Grantaire’s arm, and the majority of the white t-shirt he had been wearing.

****

His face an emotionless mask, Grantaire methodically rinsed off his arm, grabbed a box of gauze bandages from the medicine cabinet, bandaged his arm, cleaned the sink, disinfected the razor, and put it away.

****

Suddenly drained of all energy, Grantaire walked somewhat sluggishly to his bedroom and flopped down on his bed. He immediately fell asleep, despite the fact that his shirt was still pretty much soaked in blood.

**  
**_“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”_


	2. In Which Joly is a Doctor and Eponine Threatens Violence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine wants to punch everyone. That is all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There'll be an e/R confrontation in the next chapter, I promise.

Eponine hurried through the streets, searching for any evidence of where Grantaire went. She had searched every bar within a mile radius, but to no avail. Grantaire’s apartment was her last resort, usually; Grantaire had a tendency to want to drink himself into oblivion whenever he was reminded of his past, and his apartment had long since been emptied of all alcohol except a solitary bottle of vodka.

****

She finally gave up after circling the same block for the 3rd time, and hailed a taxi to drive her to Grantaire’s apartment.

****

Once she got to the apartment complex, Eponine quickly walked to Grantaire’s door. She knocked, although the chances of receiving an answer were extremely low. After about five minutes, she started to dig around in her purse for the spare key that Grantaire had given her.

****

She located it with a fair amount of furious rifling and swearing, and unlocked the door as fast as humanly possible. The first thing she encountered was the dried up puddle of tears and various bodily fluids, which was not a good sign at all.

****

“Grantaire?” she called, somewhat hesitantly. “Are you conscious?”

****

There was no reply. Eponine tip-toed carefully across the floor, looking in every room as she passed it. Her eyes zeroed in on the bedroom door, widening in horror.

****

It was the only door that was closed, and would have appeared inconspicuous were it not for the dull red smear across the doorknob.

****

“Shit,” Eponine whispered, all but running to the door and slamming it open.

****

Lying on the bed, spread eagled, was Grantaire. His sleeves were crusty and brownish with dried blood, and one arm was haphazardly bandaged. Red lines could be seen on the bandage, as the cuts had bled through the gauze.

****

Eponine rushed over to the bed, shaking Grantaire frantically.

****

“Grantaire, wake up! Wake up, God damn it!”

****

He groggily opened his eyes, blinking a few times to get them into focus. When Grantaire realised what had happened and why Eponine was shaking him like this, his eyes flew wide open with terror.

****

He quickly curled himself into a ball, trembling.

****

“M’ sorry, so so sorry. Won’t happen again, I swear. No, no, I’m sorry. Don’t-” Grantaire’s rambling apology was cut off by Eponine drawing him into one of the most violent bear hugs he had ever experienced.

****

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, you hear me?” she growled in his ear, even as she breathed a sigh of relief. “Is it okay if I call Joly to come make sure that you’re okay? Those wounds look like they might get infected easily.”

****

Grantaire hesitated for a moment.

****

“Will you make him promise not to tell anybody?”

****

“Of course. I just want to make sure that you’re not gonna keel over. Wait here, I’ll go get you some food. Keep your blood sugar up, and all that.”

****

Eponine walked to the kitchen, firing off a text to Joly as she went.

****

_medical assistance required at R’s place. dont tell anyone._

****

The response was immediate.

****

_On my way._

****

Eponine grabbed an apple from the nearly empty basket of fruit on the kitchen counter, and thanked her lucky stars that she had decided to go grocery shopping for Grantaire the week before. Chinese leftovers were not the ideal food to feed someone who had just lost a decent amount of blood.

****

She walked back to Grantaire’s room, sitting down beside him on the bed and handing him the apple.

****

“Jehan punched Enjolras after you left.”

****

Grantaire laughed weakly.

****

“Now that’s a sight I’d like to see. I bet he was pissed.”

****

“No, not really. Just stunned. The look of complete disbelief on his face would have been hilarious had I not been so angry.”

****

“That’s shocking. One would think that the great god Apollo would bring his wrath upon anyone who marred his marble-like complexion,” Grantaire remarked with a wry smile.

****

“I don’t think anyone could stay mad at Jehan for longer than five minutes. Besides, I’m pretty sure Enjolras knew that he deserved to be punched in the face.”

“No-”

****

Grantaire was cut off yet again by the sound of the front door being slammed open.

****

“Where is he?!” came Joly’s frantic voice from the entryway, sounding slightly winded.

****

“In the bedroom. Don’t be alarmed by the bloodstains,” Eponine called.

****

“Holy shit,” Joly said, rounding the corner.

****

Admittedly, Grantaire was a rather worrisome-looking sight. The bags under his eyes were visible from a mile away, as were the blood stains on his sleeves and the bandage on his arm.

****

Joly rushed over as Eponine hurriedly got out of the way, taking Eponine’s spot as Grantaire nonchalantly took a bite of the apple Eponine got for him. Joly immediately began to unwrap the bandage, Grantaire hissing in discomfort as the gauze stuck to some of the deeper cuts.

****

“You really did a number on yourself,” Joly said, tutting over the inexpertly applied bandage. “I’m going to apply some Neosporin and rebandage these. Thankfully, you do not appear to have cut deep enough to require stitches.”

****

“Well thank God for small miracles,” Eponine said, looking relieved.

****

“There. I’ll come back tomorrow to check on this, but it should be fine. Eponine, make sure you redress it in the morning,” Joly instructed, walking to the bathroom to thoroughly wash his hands.

****

“Thank you for helping. I don’t know shit about treating injuries, so I wasn’t sure of what to do,” Eponine said, looking sheepish.

****

“No problem,” Joly replied, smiling. “I’d rather not have any of my friends die from misinformed medical treatments, so I’m glad you called an expert.”

****

“I suppose you don’t have to be told not to tell anyone about what happened, right?” Grantaire piped up from where he was sitting on the bed, looking nervous.

****

“Of course not. Doctor/patient confidentiality and all that. I won’t say a word,” Joly responded. “Well, I’d better be off. Tonight is movie night, and I get to pick.”

****

“Let me guess, a marathon of Grey’s Anatomy?” Grantaire asked, smirking.

****

“That’s not a movie, dumbass. I’m leaving,” Joly responded, faking aggravation as he slammed the door shut behind him.

Once he was gone, the jovial air all but dissipated. Grantaire looked at the floor, Eponine looked at him, and the room was dead silent, save the sound of Joly starting his car outside.

****

“Next time Enjolras says something like that to you, I’m not just gonna slap him. I’m going to kick him in the balls with my steel toed boots. Repeatedly,” Eponine said, breaking the silence. “And if you EVER scare me like that EVER again, you might get the same treatment. When you’re recovered, that is.”

****

“I’m sorry,” Grantaire replied, hunching in on himself.

****

“I know, hon. I know. Come on, let’s get you to bed. You’ve got to be exhausted,” Eponine said, helping Grantaire lie down and tucking him in.

****

“Stay with me?”

 **  
**“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to check out my tumblr, I'm http://partyfishinfrench.tumblr.com  
> I don't really post much Les Mis, because I don't follow many Les Mis people. If anyone wants to recommend people who post Les Mis that would be very nice of you.


	3. In Which Jehan is Worried, Eponine is Sassy, and Enjolras is Guilty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry.

When Grantaire awoke, it was to the sound of muffled swearing accompanied by a loud thumping noise. He rolled over with an annoyed groan to check the clock. The green digital numbers flashed 8:00 at him; The veritable crack of dawn compared to when he usually got up.

****

“What are you doing, Eponine, trying to club someone to death?” Grantaire shouted at the door, thoroughly annoyed with all the noise being made as he tried to go back to sleep.

****

“Your god damn shower is refusing to turn the fuck on!” Eponine shouted back, sounding murderous.

****

“That would be because the shower head broke about a week ago, and I’m too lazy to go buy a new one and install it. Take a bath instead, it’ll calm you down,” he suggested, rolling his eyes.

****

“Fuck you. I’ll wait till I go back to my place. Get your ass over to the bathroom so I can check your arm, then you can go back to sleep,” she retorted.

****

“Fine, Jesus,” Grantaire grumbled as he pushed himself out of bed.

****

“I prefer Eponine. Friend, Frenchman, asshat, lend me your arm so I can rebandage it and then go home to take a shower,” Eponine quipped, brandishing the box of gauze.

****

“Your creativity astounds me,” he replied, offering his bandaged arm.

****

Eponine winced as she saw the cuts clearly for the first time. Once, they had been obscured by blood, and the other time Joly had been mostly blocking her view. Now she had a clear, unobstructed view, and it was not pretty.

****

The cuts were bright red, although not swollen, and only semi-scabbed. Varying shades of scars from previous lacerations were obvious in between and on either side of the fresh cuts.

****

Eponine rinsed off Grantaire’s arm, shushing him when he winced a bit as the water hit his still sensitive skin. After drying off the aforementioned appendage to the best of her ability, she then applied Neosporin to each cut with as gentle hands as she could muster, and rebandaged them.

****

“And there you go. Do you want me to grab you something for breakfast while I’m out? I noticed that you have hardly any food in your kitchen,” Eponine remarked, raising her eyebrow at Grantaire.

****

“Just some cereal would be fine, I guess. I’m going to go back to sleep,” Grantaire replied, yawning.

****

“Goodnight, Sleeping Beauty. I’ll wake you up when I get back; Your sleep schedule is screwed to hell, and I don’t need to assist it,” Eponine said as she grabbed her purse from the couch.

 

“Whatever,” Grantaire called from the bedroom, already lying down.

****

The next time Grantaire woke up, it was to the sound of cereal being obnoxiously crunched right next to his face. He rolled over with a muffled groan/yawn, pulling the pillow over his head.

****

“Good morning, starshine, the earth says, ‘hello!’” Eponine chirped in an obnoxiously cheerful manner through her mouthful of Captain Crunch.

****

“Go ‘way,” Grantaire whined, muffled by the pillow.

****

“Nope. Get your ass up, Enjolras is coming over to officially apologise to you, and I’m pretty sure that you want to be clothed for that.”

****

“WHAT?!” Grantaire shot bolt upright, his eyes wide with horror.

****

“That’s right. Now get dressed and eat something. He’s coming over at 10. Jehan’s here too, by the way.” she said, smirking.

****

“Not cool, dude. It’s way too hot for long sleeves. I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t make me see anyone other than you when it’s too hot for long sleeves,” Grantaire worried, blinking at Eponine in a betrayed manner.

****

“I think Enjolras deserves to feel a bit more guilt. If you don’t want him to see anything, just turn up the A/C. I think the funds from your last piece should be enough to pay the bill,” Eponine replied, shrugging. “Now seriously, get your ass out of bed. It’s 9:15 already.”

****

With that, she left the room, closing the door in her wake.

****

Grantaire heaved himself out of bed for the second time that day, his mind racing through the possibilities of what could happen if he wore short sleeves. On one hand, he wanted to stop hiding his secrets from everyone in the group except for Jehan, Eponine, and Joly. On the other hand, he didn’t want Enjolras to think Grantaire was weak. One lesson he’d learned from his father at an early age was to not show your enemy your weaknesses, and while Enjolras wasn’t exactly Grantaire’s enemy, he wasn’t Grantaire’s best friend either.

****

Then again, Enjolras was an activist against bullying, and had displayed sympathy towards those who had resorted to self harm and suicide attempts at previous anti-bullying rallies. On one notable occasion, he had even kissed a girl’s wrists and told her that she was beautiful. Grantaire worked down a fit of mild jealousy at this particular memory, and fought his brain to not imagine Enjolras doing the same to him.

****

Grantaire finally decided to go with a paint splattered black v-neck t-shirt, one that he usually only wore while either A: painting in a locked room or B: hanging out with Eponine with no chance of anyone else dropping in.

****

He walked out into the hallway, taking a moment to steel himself, before continuing on into the kitchen.

****

Jehan was sitting on the couch with Eponine, laughing at something she had just said. At the first sound of a floorboard creaking, however, he was up and hugging Grantaire in record time.

****

“R! Are you okay? That’s an awfully large bandage. Here, let me get you some cereal!” Jehan babbled, flitting around the kitchen to pour Grantaire a bowl of cereal.

****

“I’m fine Jehan. Just tired. Thank you,” Grantaire sighed, allowing himself to be ushered to the couch and handed a dish of Captain Crunch.

****

Jehan perched himself on the couch next to Grantaire, peering at him worriedly.

****

“Are you sure? You look kind of pale. I think Enjolras is really very sorry for what he said to you. Especially after I punched him in the face, but that’s beside the point. Courfeyrac might have also kicked him in the balls; I’m not really sure. Things got a little blurry past the point where my knuckles came into contact with Enjolras’ cheekbone. Those things are sharp! Maybe they really are made out of marble, like you say,” Jehan rambled, mostly to fill the awkward silence.

****

Eponine appeared to be playing Fruit Ninja on her iPod touch, which was a dead giveaway to the fact that she was extremely tense. The last time Eponine had played Fruit Ninja was the last time that Grantaire had been submitted to the hospital for alcohol poisoning.

****

Grantaire finished his cereal in record time, and was rinsing out the bowl when the doorbell rang. All three froze at once. Eponine got up and walked to the door, checking through the peephole before opening it.

****

Enjolras stood in the entryway, looking like he had hardly gotten any sleep at all the past night. Considering the events of yesterday, he probably hadn’t. Nevertheless, he still looked stunning to Grantaire, even as Grantaire peered around the entrance to the kitchen, keeping all but his face out of sight for the moment.

****

“Enjolras. Do come in,” Eponine said curtly, stepping aside so that he could enter.

****

“Thank you for letting me come apologise. I know I wouldn’t have, had our roles been reversed,” Enjolras said, looking extremely uncomfortable with the situation.

****

“Of course,” Eponine replied tersely. “If you would sit down, Jehan and I will wait in the cafe next door. Grantaire, please come out of the kitchen and talk to Enjolras. When you have either made amends or declared your lifelong hate for each other, text me so I can know that it’s safe to come back without risk of getting in the crossfire of a violent shouting match.”

****

With that, she promptly exited the apartment, dragging a worried looking Jehan behind her.

****

“Grantaire?” Enjolras called, looking behind him at the empty door to the kitchen.

****

“Yes, Apollo?” Grantaire replied, still not moving into view.

****

“Could you please come and talk to me face to face? I feel that this apology will have more meaning if I can see you,” Enjolras asked, apprehensive.

****

Grantaire hesitantly walked into the living room. The intake of breath from Enjolras was audible when he saw the bandage on Grantaire’s arm.

****

“Oh god. Grantaire, what did you do?”

****

“Why did you immediately assume that this was my fault? I could have gotten in a bar fight, for all you know. Then again, you probably would blame that on me, wouldn’t you? Useless Grantaire, picked a fight he couldn’t handle. Stupid drunkard, he should have known better. Selfish prick, he deserved it,” Grantaire’s voice was bitter, trembling slightly as he choked out each insult.

****

“No, no, Grantaire, that isn’t how I think of you at all! It was in the heat of the moment, I didn’t mean it! Please, you have to believe me. I am so, so sorry,” Enjolras pleaded, his eyes wide.

****

“Then how do you think of me?” Grantaire asked, his eyes raised defiantly, even as they welled with unshed tears.

****

“You are the bravest, kindest, most talented man I know. Most people only have one thing that they’re really good at, and you have so many I don’t even know them all! You once threw yourself in the way of a rock that was thrown by someone at a protest that was going to hit Jehan. You had to get three stitches, but not one second do I believe that you regret that decision. Once, I saw you through the window of the Musain. Some creep was flirting with a teenage girl, even though she kept pushing him away. You came up out of nowhere and pushed him away yourself, even though he was twice your size,” Enjolras responded, the fire in his eyes matching that of when he was giving a speech.

****

Grantaire was silent for a moment, before suddenly ripping off his bandages. He thrust his arm at Enjolras, tears streaking down his face.

****

“What do you think of me now, oh fearless leader? I’m just another cause; a poor broken soul that would shatter even more under the weight of a single insult. The physical embodiment of a low self esteem, not sugar-coated or gift wrapped. I am not a success story, I am quite the opposite. I am the little boy who ran away from home. I haven’t seen my sister in 6 years because I left her there. I _left_ her there, with my father who used to beat me until everything hurt for weeks. I LEFT her there, with him, with no other punching bags to use. I am not brave. I am a coward. And I am useless,” Grantaire sobbed, his face contorting in grief.

****

Enjolras froze. His vision zeroed in on Grantaire’s arm like there was nothing else in the entire world.

****

“Oh god, Grantaire. I am so sorry. I did this to you,” he said, his eyes filling with tears. “You are _not_ useless. You are the opposite of useless. You were just a kid, you were scared. Kids make mistakes sometimes, and that’s okay. If your sister is anything like you, she made it out just fine.”

****

Enjolras stood up and pulled Grantaire into a hug.

****

“I am useless. I’m so useless that I’m too self conscious to tell the guy I’ve been in love with for the past 4 years that I’m in love with him,” Grantaire said, muffled into Enjolras' shoulder so that it almost wasn't loud enough to be heard.

****

“What?” Enjolras said, pulling back a bit so he could look Grantaire in the face.

 **  
**“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLIFFHANGER  
> I'm mostly not sorry.


	4. In Which Grantaire Had Shitty Classmates and Enjolras is Seductive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing porny stuff, so sorry if it's bad. Also, sorry for the wait for the new chapter. I was a little preoccupied with Fall Out Boy concerts and other things.

Enjolras froze for a second, looking absolutely flabbergasted.

****

“It’s okay to be upset, I know I’m disgusting. You must be horrified that someone as hideous as me would have the audacity to fall in love with one so beautiful as yourself. I- I should go,” Grantaire mumbled, blinking back tears.

****

He made to exit the room, but was stopped by a strong hand grasping his shoulder.

****

“You’re not disgusting, nor are you hideous. Who has made you think such things of yourself?” Enjolras asked, his brow furrowing.

****

“Jimmy Bradbury, 1st grade. Told me that the school we went to didn’t allow dogs, so I shouldn’t be allowed to attend. Kim Matherson, 2nd grade. Asked if my mother had dropped me on my face repeatedly as a baby, because otherwise she had no idea how I’d turned out so ugly. Stella Brunette, 3rd grade, laughed in my face when I asked her to a school dance, then ran and told all of her friends. I was the laughingstock of my grade for the rest of the month. Cameron Hanson, 4th grade, wouldn’t allow me on his basketball team even though I was the best player in the grade because apparently I was a “freak.” Need I continue? There was an event at prom astonishingly similar to a scene in Carrie, but I have the feeling you don’t want to hear about that,” Grantaire responded, eyes fixed firmly to the ceiling.

****

“Grantaire, you do know that they were wrong, right? They were wrong about everything about you. You are _beautiful_ , Grantaire. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. I’m honored that you fell in love with me,” Enjolras said, cupping Grantaire’s face with his palm. “Look at me.”

****

Grantaire’s face twitched in shock at the use of the word ‘beautiful.’ He slowly his eyes down from the ceiling, until he was looking directly into Enjolras’ eyes.

****

“Don’t lie,” Graintaire whispered, a pained expression set on his face. “I know what I am. They were right.”

****

“No, Grantaire. No matter what they said, no matter how many times. No matter what insults they called you, you have to believe that they were wrong,” Enjolras stressed, his blue eyes burning with the same fire as when he was giving a speech, except this fire seemed softer, gentler, even. “They were wrong, and I love you.”

****

Grantaire’s eyes grew impossibly wide.

****

“No you don’t. You can’t. No one can. No one ever has. How could you, the golden Apollo, stoop to love me? I am Icarus, I am the fool who flew too close to the sun; a failure,” He said, the last word coming out as a choked sob. “Don’t do this to me, Apollo. Don’t give me false hope, when all that lies in store for me is despair.”

****

“But it is true, Grantaire! I have loved you since the day I first realized that your arguments make me better at what I do, instead of hindering me. And although I may not have made my feelings clear before, please understand that this was only because I did not think that you would ever return them.” Enjolras brought his face closer to Grantaire’s, his lips stopping a hairsbreadth away from Grantaire’s

****

“Do you permit it?” he whispered.

****

Grantaire’s eyes slid shut.

****

“If you wish it, I permit it,” came the response, a gusted sigh that brushed past Enjolras’ face.

****

Enjolras slowly slid forward, closing the already minimal gap between their lips. As first kisses went, it was a decent one. It was a bit too tearstained to be amazing, but the chaste gentleness made up for that tenfold.

****

It was Grantaire who deepened the kiss, surprisingly. He brushed his tongue lightly against Enjolras’ lower lip, daring to rest his hands gingerly on Enjolras’ hips.

****

Enjolras took this as his cue, and tangled his fingers in Grantaire’s hair, opening his mouth against Grantaire’s. The kiss took a 360 from gentle and sweet to fierce and possessive in about two seconds flat. Grantaire walked Enjolras backward to press him against the wall beside the couch, his grip on Enjolras’ hips tightening incrementally with every step.

****

Their lips finally parted with an obscenely wet noise, and Enjolras leaned his forehead against Grantaire’s.

****

“D’you want to take this to your bedroom, or do you want to let Eponine and Jehan know that we’re not dead?” he asked, his eyes strongly suggesting that they went with the former option.

****

“Why not both?” Grantaire replied, pulling out his cellphone and shooting off a quick text to Eponine.

****

_no shouting matches are happening, but i still wouldnt suggest coming up_

_**** _

_why not?_

_**** _

_lets just say that what is happening is about as loud as a shouting match, and much less pleasant to walk in on_

_**** _

_oh_

****

Enjolras grabbed Grantaire’s hand and all but dragged him down the hall to the bedroom. The door was slammed open carelessly, Grantaire flung onto the bed. He stayed there, sprawled languidly and watching Enjolras strip through half-lidded eyes. His breath caught in his chest when Enjolras shimmied out of his underwear.

****

Enjolras seemed to hear the barely audible noise, and turned a predatory gaze on Grantaire. He quickly advanced towards Grantaire’s suddenly not so relaxed form and straddled his midsection, shuddering at the feeling of his sensitive cock on the rough material of Grantaire’s tshirt.

****

Grantaire’s face was one of pure awe, his hands carefully smoothing over Enjolras’ chest. Enjolras’ breath hitched when a stray finger brushed over one of his nipples, and Grantaire quickly repeated the motion with his thumb, harder this time. Enjolras let out a breathy moan, his hips twitching downwards to grind down against Grantaire’s crotch.

****

Grantaire’s hands dragged down Enjolras’ back, his face a mask of pleasure.

****

“Oh god, do that again,” he said, his voice a rough growl.

****

Enjolras complied, using Grantaire’s distraction to drag Grantaire’s shirt over his head. He bent down to mouth at Grantaire’s neck, throwing Grantaire’s shirt on the floor.

****

He then scooched down the bed, unbuttoned Grantaire’s pants as fast as humanly possible, and ripped them off to join Grantaire’s shirt on the floor. Grantaire was left wearing only a pair of black boxers, his cock tenting the front of them and leaving an impressively sizeable damp spot.

****

Enjolras gave in to the urge to lean forward and mouth at the head of Grantaire’s dick through the fabric, causing Grantaire to let out a strangled moan. He pushed Grantaire’s boxers off, nuzzling at the patch of coarse black hair that was exposed in the process.

****

“D’you want me to suck you off, or jack us off together?” Enjolras asked, tonguing the base of Grantaire’s cock.

****

“The second option,” Grantaire choked. “Please.”

****

Enjolras moved swiftly back up so his nose was brushing Grantaire’s. He leaned back a bit so he could spit into his hand, then moved in closer so his lips were brushing Grantaire’s cheekbone as he reached down to grasp both of their dicks in his hand.

****

Enjolras started up a steady rhythm quickly, letting out tiny grunting noises at every upstroke. Grantaire looped his arms around Enjolras’ neck, emitting the occasional whimper as his hips rocked in time with Enjolras’ hand’s movements.

****

All too soon, Grantaire was spilling over Enjolras’ hand, grinding Enjolras’ cock into his stomach and triggering Enjolras’ release as well. Enjolras flopped down next to Grantaire, his breathing heavy.

****

“We are so doing that again,” he said, grabbing a piece of the sheet to wipe of his stomach. Grantaire echoed the motion, nodding in agreement.

****

“Hell yes.”

****

Enjolras curled up so his forehead was resting against Grantaire’s shoulder.

****

“Later, though. Now, I want to take a nap. I hardly got any sleep last night, and I doubt that you did either,” he yawned, nuzzling into Grantaire’s upper arm.

****

“Yeah,” Grantaire confirmed, closing his eyes.

****

They fell into a light sleep, the light from in between the blinds slanting across Enjolras’ eyelashes and Grantaire’s lips.

****

_I’m tryin’_

_I’m tryin’_

_To let you know_

_Just how much_

_You mean to me._

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 should be posted shortly. Summer, while it is wonderful, is intensely boring.


End file.
